


here, hold this

by bluegoodness



Series: klance drabbles 😌 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Athletes, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Pining Lance (Voltron), Tagged underaged because they're in high school, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Track Relay Runner Keith, basketball player lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 10:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21390745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegoodness/pseuds/bluegoodness
Summary: word: handsThe spring semester of Lance’s junior year was full of revelations. If he had to break it down, it sort of went like this:1. Being a junior fuckingsuckedand taking three AP courses on top of playing varsity basketball was up high on the list of his dumbest decisions2. He thought he wanted to major in physics at university but turns out that also fuckingsuckedso that’s a hard pass3. He's into guys4. He's into a particular guy with a whack haircut
Relationships: Allura/Ryan Kinkade, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: klance drabbles 😌 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506572
Comments: 38
Kudos: 290





	here, hold this

**Author's Note:**

> high school sport au's >>>>>
> 
> this has been a long time coming and inspired by this thread on [ twitter](https://twitter.com/Loverboyklance/status/1180642342996447241)
> 
> and feel free to follow/message me on [tumblr](http:azaraven.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/bluegoodness1) and [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/blue.goodness/) 😌

** _Senior Year, Fall 2019_ **

The spring semester of Lance’s junior year was full of revelations. If he had to break it down, it sort of went like this: 

  1. Being a junior fucking _sucked_ and taking three AP courses on top of playing varsity basketball was up high on the list of his dumbest decisions
  2. He thought he wanted to major in physics at university but turns out that it also fucking _sucked _so that’s a hard pass
  3. He's into guys
  4. He's into a particular guy with a whack haircut

It’s funny how one can attend the majority of middle and high school with someone and not think of them anything beyond being a casual friend. Then one day when you see them in their element and things begin to take a turn for the weird. It’s the realization that this one guy, of all the 98% unappealing guys at Altea High, could _ perhaps _you know. Get it. 

Keith Kogane who made the Varsity 4 x 100 track relay team as a freshman. Keith Kogane who is on his way to not only get a scholarship to a Division I university but also was a diligent student and made it to the Dean’s List every semester. The guy who was the mentee of Takashi freakin’ Shirogane, one of the greatest athletes to ever grace Altea High’s halls. He knew all of these things and _ yeah _, he was impressed but Lance never really focused on it. Him. They were cool with each other and all, but he had his own sport, his own grades, and his own life to worry about. 

Cause somewhere along the way, Lance acknowledged the fact that his obsession with watching March Madness wasn’t solely for research purposes. The amount of eye candy in the realm NCAA Division I Men’s Basketball was insane. So, yeah, his romantic interests included boys. Pretty, smart, athletic boys. And by God’s grace, he ended up realizing there was a pretty, smart, athletic boy right under his nose this whole damn time.

Funny how life works.

❖

** _Junior Year, Spring 2019_ **

He was at the track meet to support Allura. She’s competing for the 4 x 100 relay, the 100-meter dash, and the 100-meter hurdle. Allura isn’t up yet so Lance hangs until Ryan returns with some food. Hunk couldn't come by which was sort of a bummer but understandable since he had a big robotics competition to prepare for. In the meantime, he watches the men’s relay teams stretch for their race. He’s rating each school and it’s upsetting him that he attended Altea and not Balmera High. Those guys were fit _ and _fine.

Lance glances at Altea’s line up. There are two runners that Lance doesn’t recognize but Lance recognizes Eli Thompson at the first leg and of course Keith Kogane at the last leg. Thanks to Allura, Lance knows the different positions of a relay team, so he knows that of all four positions, Keith is the anchor, which means he’s the fastest on the team. It also means he has a little more to run. As a junior, that was a pretty big responsibility. 

_ That’s kinda hot _, he thinks. 

Then, _ dude, no. That’s Keith. The guy you’ve known since you were twelve? _

Then_ , uh, and? _

Despite his eyes trailing all the other competitors, Lance’s eyes fall back to Keith who looks different than usual. In a good way, though. Lance watches Keith stretch, subtly appreciating how having his hair pulled back was a Look. Lance continues to watch the field until Ryan shows up a few minutes with food in hand.

“Hey. Were you with Allura?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, sliding his camera bag off his shoulder and sets it down to the bleacher seat by his hip.

He always shows up to get some shots of her at her meets. Allura always insists it’s not necessary but Lance could tell that she enjoys it telling by the _ pleased-but-I’m-trying-to-hide-it _ smile on her face when she glances off the track and sees her boyfriend and his lens focused on her. They’ve been dating for five months now. All thanks to Lance too. A guy could only take so much of his teammate mooning over the way she intelligently spoke about intersectional feminism and during and how pretty she looked with her dark silver braids. Lance could only take Ryan’s pathetic attempts to cover up his feelings ( _ “I just think she would be a great model. That’s all. Dude, stop singing that damn song. I’m being for real. Lance!”) _

Yeah, so Lance never stopped humming the tune to Why You Always Lying because Ryan was a punk who was blind to Allura’s obvious feelings for him too. Did he seriously think she attended their basketball games just for Lance? _ Pfft _ . So, one day he was like _ fuck it _and created a group chat. The rest is history. 

“She’s stressing over the 100-meter, which she has in the bag.” Which, duh. Allura was an amazing sprinter. He hands over nachos to Lance as Lance hums in agreement. “So, you know, I was tryna gas her up a little.”

“Right.” 

The conversation diverts to classes and how much they hate AP US History but love Ms. Hangol. Then, how the team was integrating together with their new coach. Before they know it, the announcer goes on about the race nearly starting. Lance glances at Keith who’s getting into position. He looks so much smaller in muscle mass than the rest of the athletes. Lance leans forward in his seat and thinks, _good_ _luck, buddy._

The gun goes off and the first leg runners are off with it. Lance doesn’t think he would ever excel in sprints, so he has a deep appreciation for sprinters. These people have to be _ fast _ . Lance would probably leave some skin on the track if he tried to push himself like that. The baton gets passed to the second leg and now Altea is in third place. Within what feels like a second, the baton is passed to the third leg but Galra Prep is halfway to reaching their fourth leg to their fastest runner, a tall guy with long, white hair which is tied in a ponytail. _ Okay, Lucius Malfoy headass _, Lance thinks with a laugh. Eli is a few feet away from Keith when Lucius Malfoy Impersonator is handed the baton. Balmera High is in second place now. 

_ C’mon, Eli, get to Keith. _ Keith only glances back once to make sure Eli’s coming and then his face is back to facing the track, body positioned like some sort of an Olympic athlete. Lance thinks, nodding his head absently, _ oh he’s going to fuck some shit up. _Once the baton is in his hands, he’s off like a shot.

It’s a little surreal watching Keith. Lance knew Keith was fast, as he is the star of the track team, but it’s something else _ watching _ him. Lance swallows thickly watching Keith blow through the person from Balmera in second. _ Fuck _ , he watches in slight awe, he is _ fast _ fast _ . _

From Lance’s vantage point, Keith’s on the opposite side of the track when he begins to catch to the guy from Galra Prep. Lance tenses and stares with wide eyes as the race unfolds. He feels as though he’s watching it all in slow motion with the way that Keith inches closer. One second, he’s eight feet away. Then four feet away. _ Oh, God. _They’re neck-and-neck.

His heart is racing and he’s gripping the bleacher seat to stop himself from leaping out of his seat and screaming like a lunatic. He’s Latino and shouting during sports practically runs in his blood. 

He stops himself but when Keith’s lean frame breaks through and passes the Lucius Malfoy Impersonator, he thinks, _ fuck it. _

_ GOKEITHGOOHMYGODGOGOGOGOGO!!!! _

Keith circles around the track and once he turns, Lance knows the race is his. Keith leaves the rest of the guys in his dust. Well, technically not in his dust, since the Lucius Malfoy Impersonator was a few feet away but in Lance’s opinion, he just got bodied by Keith. 

Lance whistles and cheers alongside Ryan and the rest of the Altea student body. He doesn’t even remember rising from his seat but there was no way he could have sat down with a race that close.

Lance’s heart thuds hard in his chest as his eyes stay focused on Keith as the boy jogs off as he passes the finish line. Keith’s name echoes through the field via intercom as the first-place winner. Keith just secured their spot to go to state championships. Lance’s heart pitter-patters at the news. His face feels hot. He’s short of breath like he’s the one who ran for his life. The worst thing is he can’t take his eyes off Keith who’s currently displaying good sportsmanship.

“Wild, right?” Ryan says, looking at Lance with a small grin. _ Wild. Turned on. Same thing, right? _Lance thinks hysterically. “You see that guy in the front row with the black and purple baseball hat? That’s a scout from Marmora University. I heard they’re here for Kogane.”

Lance’s brows inch upwards, a little impressed. Marmora is a Division I school with at least one or two Olympic hopefuls in each of their sports. They’re elite. But, Lance also heard their coaching staff is full of antisocial hard-asses who thought team bonding was theoretical. Lance glances at the field where the track team was walking off. If Keith ends up going to Marmora, he’s in for a world of pain. He watches Keith walk-off, adjusting his headband, and heat pools low in his abdomen at the gesture. _ Yeah, he kind of looks cute with his hair out of his face. _

_ Oh _ , he thinks when he feels a lurch in his stomach. Keith shoots a small, albeit tellingly pleased smirk to Eli and Lance’s eyes fall and he thinks, recognizing the tell-tale feeling developing in his chest, _ oh no. _

❖ 

** _Junior Year, Spring 2019_ **

He hoped the crush (God, it sounds so 7th grade) would die down in a week or two after the meet. That did in fact not happen. When Lance was practicing at school on the weekends with some of his teammates during the offseason, he would see Keith running around the track next to the basketball gym. He’s usually alone. Sometimes he’s with Eli, sometimes with Shirogane. Sometimes shirtless, sometimes not. And _ God _, did Lance live for the shirtless days. 

So, yeah, the crush grew. It grew to the point that Lance fell asleep thinking of Keith’s face and his dark eyes that were framed by short, dark lashes. How he had an affinity for muted colors but has a cherry red backpack that drew Lance’s eyes to him in the hallways almost immediately. It was painful.

So instead of doing nothing, Lance told himself to stop being a punk and do something about it. Because, if he was going to be into guys, the least he could do for himself was getting with the most attractive one in town. 

It’s called self-love. Look it up. 

❖

**_Junior Year, Spring 2019_**

“Hey, Keith,” Lance says, approaching Keith who’s standing near his locker which also happens to be near Lance’s AP Language class. Keith turns to him and gives him a small nod. 

“Good luck at the meet today, man,” Lance says as he lightly knocked his fist against Keith’s shoulder. Wow. The strength _ jumped _out. What do these track stars eat? Lord have mercy. “You did amazing out there.”

“Thanks, Lance.” It was a polite response. There was even a hint of a smile on his lips. But, that wasn’t really doing it for Lance. He wants dimples. He wants laughs. He wants those dark eyes trained on Lance.

“You, my guy, are wild.” Lance leans against the lockers. “So on a scale of one to ten,” Lance says, tucking a hand under his chin in thought. “How lame would it be if I called you Flash?”

Keith spares him a short-amused glance as he drops some of his textbooks into his locker. “Eleven.”

Ouch.

“Oh, come on.” Lance groans, pushing himself off the lockers. “Don’t tell me you’re a Marvel fan.” Lance wasn’t a hater against Marvel, but he grew up on DC Comics. It’s all warm, fuzzy feelings of nostalgia with DC. 

He barely gets a peek at the inside of Keith’s locker. He isn’t surprised to find no stickers or photos taped to the door. Lance has a few pictures of his niece and nephews because nothing gives me the will to live after practice than seeing their chubby little faces. If he manages to bag Keith, he’s making it on the inside of that locker so help him.

“I am,” Keith starts as he shuts his locker and turns to Lance. “But, it’s more that Flash is pretty basic. But I appreciate the effort.” 

Basic? _ Basic _ ? Lance’s eyes widen. The disrespect. The Flash is not basic. He carried _ Justice League: Unlimited _on his back. He tells Keith so and the other boy just shrugs. 

Lance narrows his eyes at Keith. “I’m kind of surprised you think this way. Cause you and the Flash kinda fit. Aesthetically.”

“Uh,” Keith raises a brow. And seriously, those brows were lethal. Dark, thick, and full of attitude. If he got them threaded, no girl on campus could stand a chance. “How?”

“You know…” Lance drags, flapping his arms up and down Keith’s body. “Cause your favorite color is red.” Red backpack. Red keychain. Black and red Adidas gym bag. It’s his thing. “And… you’re fast.” Lance says with a shrug, an innocent, beaming grin on his face. It’s a weak explanation and Keith’s unimpressed look confirms it. Whatever. “What? It’s still facts.”

Keith adjusts his backpack over his shoulder. “That’s like saying you’re Sokka cause you have great aim and your favorite color is blue. 

“Um, it’s because I _ am _Sokka.”

Lance attributes half his personality to Sokka. There was a reason Lance dressed up as Sokka for two Halloweens straight in middle school. They would vibe _ so _heavy if he wasn’t a fictional character. Lance is a little surprised that Keith would even remember that. 

Lance presses his hand to his chest. “Dude, we’re literally the same person? We’re melanated brothers. Kindred spirits. How could you not know that?” He raises his voice in mock offense, hoping to get a smile out of Keith.

Keith’s lips slowly mouth _ melanated brothers _and his brows raise an inch. Technically, he’s not smiling. Still. Something in his expression shifted. A smile danced on his face. It wasn’t anything major. If anything it was a short two-step but that dancing smile was there. It was enough for Lance to give himself an imaginary pat on the back.

“Of course you would identify with him.” 

“He’s a legend. Wait––” Lance cuts himself off, Keith’s words registering a second later. _ Oh, did I hear a compliment in there? _“You think I have a good aim?” Coming from the guy who has barely attended any sporting event outside of his own, this is news to Lance. “Have you been coming to my games, Kogane?”

Keith's eyes shift to the side for a second. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ears and Lance’s stomach flips at the gesture. He catches Keith doing it in AP US History more than once all semester but now it has different connotations. Now, it’s _ cute _.

“Basketball isn’t really my thing.” A choked noise escapes Lance. “But… I’ve heard stories.”

Let it be known that Lance is the first to toot his own horn. So, “stories” really means it’s pure fact that Lance is a strong point guard. He’s a strategy king, his wrist flick is icy as hell and he’s good enough to have scouts from D1 schools looking his way. Considering all the summers he spent shooting baskets at the elementary school in his neighborhood and nights studying the plays of the greatest players in history, he’s not humble enough to not flex just a little bit. 

“Maybe you should make it a thing.” Lance grins, leaning forward with a casual shrug. “Stories aren’t as good as seeing the real thing,” Lance says, raising a brow. “I mean they don’t call me sharpshooter for nothing.” Lance “Sharpshooter” McClain, baby. Lance rocks back on the heels of his feet, “Really though. I would appreciate the love.”

Keith hums and Lance swore the other boy was hiding his smiles hostage from Lance. “I’ll think about it.” 

“I better see you when our season starts!” Yeah, it’s months away but he’s got to think long-term here. Homecoming will be here before he knows it and it would be cool to have a date that doesn’t end up ghosting him for her ex. The bell rings to symbolize the beginning of the study hall and he curses to himself. He can’t sneak into Ms. Hangol’s class now.

“I got to go but I’ll see you later, Lance.”

“Good luck at your meet!”

“Thank you,” Keith says with a small smile (finally!) Keith waves goodbye and heads towards the main office. He’s probably meeting up with the rest of the team since the meet is at another school. Once Keith turns the corner and is out of sight, Lance tilts his head against the locker and lets out a sigh. _ Really man? Sokka? _

He groans in embarrassment as he replied the conversation over in his head. He barely even talked to Keith about the meet. It was all about Lance. _ Was that rude? Did he find me annoying? _ Lance itches to run a hand down his face but he refrains because _ ew. _Instead, he shoves his hands into his pocket and makes his way to his Spanish class for study hall.

Flirting was hard, man. 

❖

** _Senior Year, Fall 2019_ **

When senior year rolls around, the Gods smiled down at Lance because he and Keith were taking two classes together. AP Government and Politics and AP Chemistry. This means he gets to see Keith at least once a day leaving him with plenty of opportunities to lay some groundwork. August and September were supposed to be the time he flirted and determined whether or not he had a shot with Keith being his homecoming date.

August and September flew by and now Homecoming is just around the corner and he still doesn’t know where he stands. He resists the urge to rest his forehead on his desk and groan out loud.

Lance hasn’t asked a guy out before. How would he even ask Keith out? Lance can’t remember if Keith ever dated in all the years they have attended school together. _ Does he even like dances? _Lance bites his lip and sinks into his seat, absently doodling in his notebook as he waits for class to wrap up. People are already getting asked out for Homecoming. What if someone asks Keith out before him? If the looks that James Griffin from the water polo sends over at Keith during AP Chemistry tell him anything, it's that he’s got some competition. Not that Keith paid attention to him. And, not that Lance would know what Keith’s type is, but he has a feeling that it can’t be a white boy. It just can’t be.

Then again, all of Lance’s flirty interactions have so far lead to nothing so who’s to say he’s Keith’s type?

The bell rings to signal students to head to study hall and Lance packs his things from his course and makes a beeline for his AP Government classroom. It’s his favorite class by far this year. Lance has always enjoyed debating with people on the importance of affirmative action and the ways in which institutionalized racism exists to this day. He gets to run his mouth all the time, check people who think colorblindness is a thing and remind everyone America’s issue with immigration is founded on lies. Basically, it’s the second-best thing about high school next to scoring buckets.

It’s across campus so it takes him a minute to get there. On the way, he’s bombarded with posters reminding him that Homecoming week was approaching. He hikes up his backpack over his shoulder and rolls his eyes to himself. _ Yeah, yeah, I get it. _

Once he enters class, a warm, fuzzy feeling wraps itself around his heart The room is decorated with fall colors. The brown and orange leaves and candles near Ms. Hangol’s desk make the room feel so warm and homey. It kind of makes Lance want to hug a pumpkin. The room itself was inviting but Ms. Hangol is what makes it a really special place to stop by. Lance has had his fair share of uninterested, boring teachers at Altea High but Ms. Hangol is the most real teacher he’s had _ period _. The course was interesting and relevant, and it didn’t hurt that he was 97% sure that he was Ms. Hangol’s favorite.

By force of habit, he glances around the room. _ Oh _ . Look who’s here. There Keith sat, whack haircut and all, all cool and aloof in the back of the room. He was probably working on their AP Gov essay. Nerd. He was wearing a dark green crew neck and black jeans. His trusty black Vans. _ Damn _ , Lance thinks, eyeing the way Keith’s legs fill out the jeans, _ basic never looked so good. _

Lance walks over and takes a seat facing Keith, his legs straddling the sides of the chair. “Keith! What a nice surprise to see you here.”

“Hey, Lance.” Keith glances up from where he’s taking making handwritten edits on his paper. His choppy bangs have fully grown out so he’s actually able to tie the entirety of his hair in a top knot. No hair blocking his eyes or forehead. For someone who always had his hair in his eyes, his forehead was perfectly clear and even. Lance has got to say… this is A Look.

“What are you working on?”

“Essay for Mr. Iverson.” AP Literature. Despite its name, that class was in fact, _ not _lit. 

“Gross.”

A huffy laugh escapes Keith. “Yeah, I know. I’m just trying to get an outline done for it.” Sounds like good ‘ol Dean’s List Keith Kogane. It’s not fair that someone can be so diligent in all parts of their life. 

“How are you so put together, man? I don’t think I’ve created an outline since middle school.” He’s just out here wingin’ it. 

Keith snorts. “Those aren’t the words I would use.”

“What do you mean?”

Keith shrugs. “I’m not the strongest writer so I have to take all these extra steps to even get what I’m trying to say.” He looks over at Lance. “You’re a stronger writer so maybe outlines aren’t necessary.” 

Lance raises a brow. “How would you know if I’m a strong writer?”

Keith shifts in his seat and looks back at his paper. “I just... pay attention.” 

Interesting.

He should turn back to his own desk but he doesn’t want to. He pillows his head on Keith’s desk instead. He closes his eyes for just a second because the vibes in this room were doing things to his energy level. 

Something pokes his arm. “Why are you sleeping on my desk?”

“Your desk is comfortable,” Lance says, voice muffled over the sleeve of his hoodie.

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Keith says. “you should turn around and work on your paper before Ms. Hangol kicks you out.

As if. “Ms. Hangol loves me she wouldn’t do that,” Lance says voice muffled. “Plus, I like the view here,” Lance says innocently. He tilts his head to smile at Keith cheekily. Keith breaks eye contact after a beat and Lance notices how his cheeks blossom into a rosy pink shade. _ Score _. 

He raises a hand to poke Keith’s wrist. “Hey, you gonna cheer me on at our first game?”

Keith stays silent for a moment before finally saying, “Isn't that for a couple of weeks?”

Oh, so he knows when their game is? "Yeah, but I'm just making sure I'm on your schedule."

Keith hums. "I might come by."

Well, that’s not going to cut it. 

He tries to catch Keith’s eye. “What do I have to do to get that maybe to become a yes?”

Keith purses his lips but Lance knows he's repressing a smile. Probably. “Get the captain to turn around and sleep on his own desk would be a good start.”

_ That’s me. I’m the captain now, _ he thinks with a laugh. What a strange realization. Lance hums. Lance begins to draw figure eights on Keith’s desk with his index finger. He’s officially eight-years-old and he does not care. 

“What if... the captain asks with a pretty please and red cherry on top?” Lance bats his eyelashes too to lay his cuteness really thick.

Keith releases an airy, amused laugh. “Still at a maybe, Lance.” So, he’s playing hard to get. Cool. Cool. Now, Lance can tell when he’s getting curved. It happens to him more often than he would like. But, he doesn’t think he’s getting curved with Keith. At least not yet. 

He sits in silence trying to figure out what else to say. Normally, Lance is pretty good with his words and flirty banter. With Keith, though it all goes flying out the window. He bounces his leg in thought. Should he ask him about the new season of Stranger Things? Or, if he has officially committed to Marmora? This is insanity. He needs to do something. He doesn’t register the warm weight on his hands until a few seconds later. He glances down to see Keith’s hand resting on top of Lance’s left hand. He was probably tapping his desk. 

“Lance.”

“Sorry,” Lance says sheepishly.

“You’re good,” Keith says lowly. “It was just getting a little loud.” He tilts his head to the side and Lance figures other people must have been looking over. 

He doesn't want their conversation to be cut short, so he scrambles for something to keep the momentum going. 

“You know Keith…” Lance says. “Your hands are kinda small.”

He’s come to find that when all else fails, it’s easier to tease Keith to get his attention. And as per usual, it works like a charm. 

Keith’s furrows his brows at Lance. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Lance assures him. “it’s cute.”

Lance keeps his satisfied smirk in check at the way that Keith’s eyes narrow at the word “cute.” Eli sits behind Keith and upon having heard Lance’s comment, reliably says _ oop. _ He loves to start drama as much as Lance. 

“It’s not like track stars are known for having big hands anyway. Also, aren’t you like the shortest member of the relay team?” 

Keith’s mouth tightens a little as he stares at Lance. “I’m not the shortest person on the team.” 

Lance hums and clicks his tongue. “My bad, you’re taller than Eli, right?” Keith is probably somewhere around 5'11. Which isn't even short but compared to Lance's 6'3, it sort of is. 

“Barely,” Eli chimes in.

Lance holds in a snort at Keith’s silence. That was confirmation if any. _ Maybe I should stop teasing, _ but when he takes in how flushed Keith’s cheeks are. Lance basks in the fact that Keith’s dark eyes are trained on Lance and he thinks _ nah _.

Keith leans back in his seat and crosses his arms across his chest. Oh, he now wants to hide his hands. Adorable. “Not everyone can be a giraffe-like you, McClain.”

Eli, the nosy drama queen, cough-laughs in response. 

“And, I don’t have tiny hands,” Keith adds.

For the sake of where he thinks this conversation could go, he ignores the giraffe comment. “Yeah?” Lance says, leaning forward in his seat. He ducks his head to catch Keith’s gaze before he loses it. Lance raises his brows and tilts his head in a challenge_ . _“Okay, prove it. 

“What do you mean prove it.”

“I mean…” Lance shrugs, leaning back in his seat. He doesn’t go too far before the desk digs into his back. “prove it.”

Keith stares blankly at him. Lance raises his brow as a challenge.

“Give me your hand, then.” Keith uncrosses his arms and pulls the sleeve of his crewneck up his arm exposing toned muscle and pale skin. He has light dust of hair on his arms. Wow, he actually managed a way to finesse his way to holding Keith’s hand. He is, in fact, a genius. 

Lance is vaguely aware of someone snorting at their antics. Lance gives Keith his hand and watches carefully as Keith grabs Lance’s wrist with one hand. His thumb is pressed against the inside of Lance’s wrist. Heat fills Lance’s body at once. Keith’s hands were warm, yeah, but the simple knowledge of it being Keith touching him lights up sparks up and down his nervous system.

Keith takes the initiative of lining up their hands from the base of their palms to their fingertips. Lance stops paying attention after that. Now that Keith’s whole face is on display, Lance stares at Keith who looks particularly lovely this October morning. Pink lips, flushed cheeks, and dark lashes. His skin was so clear and Lance would bet he didn’t even have a rigorous skincare routine like Lance. Keith was too pretty for his own good. 

“See?” Keith says, his voice cutting through Lance’s thoughts. “Not tiny.”

_ Yes, you idiot, I know. I just want to hold your damn hands. _“Hm,” Lance leans in close to inspect Keith’s hands which were in all honesty, not small at all. His fingers were long and pale and slightly thicker than Lance’s. Still, Lance still got him beat. Lance hums in thought. “I’m afraid I’m going to need another point of reference." 

Keith looks at him, his dark eyes bright with something that makes feel as though a swarm of butterflies was finding a home in Lance’s stomach. 

“Do you now?” Lance swears he saw the corner of Keith’s mouth inches upwards a bit at the innocent look Lance gives him. _ Oh man. Is he on to me? _

“Yup. It’s for science.” 

“All right,” Keith says with a sigh. “Give me your other hand." 

_ Say. Less. _

Lance hands it to him with no hesitation and Keith goes over the process again. This time going a little slower than usual. His fingers are so feather-light as they match up to each of Lance’s. With each press, Lance feels his stomach clench. They weren’t even technically holding hands and he feels like he’s about to combust. This was his best and worst flirtation tactic yet.

“So?” Keith asks. “What are your scientific results?” Lance can practically hear the smile in his voice.

_ First of all, I am in heaven _.

“Hm… well, your hands are warm,” Lance says slowly, “And smaller than mine.” Keith rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. “And…” Lance trails off, debating on whether he should say the last bit. He looks at Keith who’s staring at him with an amused brightness to his eyes. Fuck it. “need to be held by mine. At all times.”

A smile peeks at Lance from Keith’s lips.

“In the name of science,” Lance adds.

The smile stretches. “Is that so?”

_ Boy am I lame. Also, Keith is smiling at me so it’s okay. _

“Yup. Sorry, don’t make the rules here.” 

Heat pricks at his face. He can’t believe he’s doing this in Ms. Hangol’s class. If Keith curves him right now he may have to beg the district to switch his entire schedule around to never see Keith’s face again. Which would majorly suck because Keith is so nice to look at. 

“But… uh, you don’t think so?”

Keith leans forward. “What I think,” Keith says, voice dipping low. “Is that you just wanted to hold my hand.”

Keith’s fingers inch to the side and fall into the gaps leaving their hands intertwined. Keith carefully folds their hands on top of the desk. He leans in close and suddenly, their faces are only a few inches apart and Lance begins to notice some things. Keith has a healed scar near his jawline that blends so well into his skin that Lance never noticed before. He also has a small, silver hoop pierced his left ear that he probably removes during his meets and practices. He smells like green tea and it’s doing things to Lance. This warmth and proximity are making his brain short circuit. _ This is wild _. Lance blinks at Keith, heart lurching in his chest, threatening to fall onto Keith’s desk at the confident smirk on his lips.

“Um, sounds fake.” His voice comes out a little strangled and entirely unconvincing because Keith ducks his head to laugh at Lance’s expense. Which, _ rude _. “Pretty sure I said it’s for science.”

Keith lifts his head to smile at Lance. He’s outright smiling now and Lance’s poor heart cannot take it. He has dimples for God’s sake. “Pretty sure you’re lying.”

“Pretty sure you wanted to hold my hand too,” Lance retorts. To his side, Eli makes an agreeing noise in the back of his throat. Oh, yeah, they’re in public. Fantastic. Everyone is going to hear Keith reject him and––

“Yeah, I did. Still do.” He squeezes Lance’s hand a little. “Your hands are warm too, you know.” 

_ Huh? _ Lance blinks. A thumb traces down the side of his hand and Lance’s heart stutters at the gesture. _ Is this real life? _

“Hey, Lance?” Keith says, voice but all a whisper. He seems to also remember that they’re in public.

“Yeah?” Lance manages to say in a whisper as well. 

Keith ducks his head to catch Lance’s gaze because yeah, he’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Next time you want to hold my hand,” he says, the teasing lilt distinguishable even in a whisper, “you could just ask me out on a date first.” Then he unlaces one of their hands to poke Lance’s cheek affectionately. _ Er. _Lance stares at Keith with wide eyes and a slightly loose jaw. “then you can hold it all night, okay?”

_ Date? Ask Keith on a date? Did he hear that correctly? _

The bell goes off to indicate it was lunchtime. In seconds Keith is up and out of his seat, backpack slung over his shoulder.

“See you later, sharpshooter.” He lightly taps his knuckles against Lance’s jawline and Lance just about faints. 

Um. Did he––

_ All night, he said? _

Lance doesn’t take his eyes off of Keith as he makes his way to the exit. It’s only when he’s at the door does he looks at Lance over his shoulder, Lance can make the crinkles near his eyes. He was grinning. Then he’s gone. First of all, _ who _does that? Second of all, when did Keith get so smooth? 

“Proud of you, man.” Eli shakes Lance’s shoulder on his way out. Lance blinks at him. “Now ask him out for real.” _ What is happening? _The door shuts with Eli’s exit and Lance slides into his seat and whispers “holy shit” to himself. 

“Right?”

Lance’s head jolts up to lock eyes with Ms. Hangol who’s looking at him with bright, knowing brown eyes. 

“Normally, I would want you to have been working on your assignments but that was too adorable to stop.” She continues to peel her mandarin as if Lance’s whole universe isn’t just exploding right now. “Just so you know I was rooting for you.”

_ Rooting for him? _ Lance makes a choked noise and pulls his hoodie over his head to the amusement of his teacher. He grabbed his things and he’s on his way out of the room when he pulls out his phone to text the group chat that includes Allura, Ryan, and Hunk.

**Lance**

> WHERE YALL AT 

> some shit went down in ms. hangols class and i gotta share

**Allura**

>oooh like what?

**Lance**

> nbd just may get a date to homecoming 🤪

> and ~perhaps~ a boyfriend 😌

**Allura**

> WHAT

>!!! Cant wait to hear and heading over 

**Hunk**

>😱

> Walking over to our spot rn

**Ryan**

>

* * *

A week later, he asks Keith out to homecoming. Ms. Hangol’s in on it and she lets him hijack the class during his presentation and by God’s grace it goes off without a hitch. Keith says yes and they get a little love over it on social media. 

**ryan.kinkade** AYYY shooters shoot **@MClance **–– at Altea High School

**hunkbecookin ** thats my boy!!! **@MClance**

**princessallura ** love to see it. So happy for you **@MClance**

**eli.t **about damn time 😩👏🏽

Keith ends up beating him to the official ask of being boyfriends. Lance really isn't mad about it, though. He's made it on the inside of Keith's locker, he gets to hold his hand in the hallways and on dates and even gets good luck kisses even though Lance is still technically in the preseason. So, yeah, Lance isn't mad about _ anything_. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are really appreciated!! if you like these stories, please consider sharing them on social media!
> 
> and feel free to follow/message me on [tumblr](http:azaraven.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/bluegoodness1) and [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/blue.goodness/) 😌


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